


A Knight out of Time

by Ashtree11



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, Romance, art student!edelgard, ingrid is a knight out of time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtree11/pseuds/Ashtree11
Summary: Edelgard comes home for the holidays after a long and hectic semester, but her mind is heavy with the deadline for her art class's final project waiting to greet her at the end of what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. Wanting to help his daughter out her art block, Ionius shows her a stone sculpture of a knight that he had recently come into possession of. Struck by the mastery of the piece, Edelgard finally gets to work with fresh inspiration.However, things certainly become complicated when the statue comes to life.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	A Knight out of Time

**Author's Note:**

> so this idea has been kicking around in my head, kind of a pygmalion? sort of situation that Edelgard finds herself in. Kind of? Well anyway we shall see how well this pans out haha  
> i hope you enjoy :3

Sunlight filtered into the room in ribbons. The lack of harsh light was what roused Edelgard from her slumber. She groggily pushed herself up from the mattress, barely registering that it was softer than her usual bed. It was then that she realized that she wasn’t in her dorm room, but rather in her old bedroom on her father’s estate.

Gradually, she remembered that she just flew in late last night and after a brief reunion with her father she retired to her room. After several months of university, she was finally home for the holiday. She slumped back onto the bed with a sigh of relief.

Then a knock came at the door. “El? Are you awake?” her father’s deep, labored voice sounded through the thick wood.

Once more she rose up, this time she rolled out of bed and padded on bare feet to open the door. The sight of her father, leaning heavily on his cherry wood cane with its golden eagle head on the handle, brought a smile to her lips. “Good morning, Father.”

“Still an early riser I see,” he said with a fond smile, as if her sleeping habits were somehow nostalgic.

She rubbed the left over sleep from her eyes, shaking her head goodnaturedly. “I’d hardly think so. My time at university made me very intimate with the difference between awake and functional.”

He laughed. “Well then, I shall leave you be until you are ‘functional.’ Breakfast is waiting downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

Right on cue, her stomach rumbled. “I might be down sooner than later. Thank you, Father.”

Just as she said, she washed, dressed, and hurried down the stairs towards the dining room where Ionius sat at the head of a long table that easily dwarfed him. It was almost comedic to have an old man contrasted by such an oversized surface if it didn’t already serve to remind Edelgard of how lonely he must be. She, along with her seven older siblings, were grown up and off doing their own things while the two youngest children lived with their mother, leaving Ionius alone in the Hresvelg estate. The only reprieve he could glean were the holidays when they would all try and make time to spend with him.

Breakfast consisted of the conventional bacon, eggs, and pancakes. At the sight of the pancakes though, Edelgard eagerly stacked three, knowing that they’ve been specially made to have peaches in them. She was often teased for having a strange preference for peaches in her breakfast growing up, but her father was more than willing to accommodate her favorite fruit.

Ionius watched in bemusement as his daughter dug into her food with fervor. She was half way through when he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

Edelgard hummed around her mouthful of pancake, taking a moment to swallow the portion. “I did. It was strange to wake up in my old room after so long.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure it is. Speaking of which, how is campus life treating you?”

“Nothing extraordinary. My roommate is interesting to say the least, but she’s harmless and genuinely fun to spend time with.”

Ionius raised an amused brow. “Oh? And is this roommate possibly—”

“Please, Father,” Edelgard scoffed. “Dorothea is a good friend, but that’s all. I will admit that she is quite attractive, but she has a girlfriend presently. They’re rather adorable together.”

“Ah, I see. And your studies? I take it they are going well?”

“As well as they can be,” Edelgard sighed, thinking about the ever looming deadline of the final project she had no idea what to do for. The Garreg Mach Art Institute was one of the most prestigious in all of New Fodlan. With a title like that it was easy to get lost in its lofty expectations. Holiday was a reprieve that couldn’t come fast enough.

“I know that look, El. You’re in a block.”

“It’s nothing,” Edelgard quickly deflected, not wanting to spend her vacation thinking about school, let alone during a fantastic breakfast.

Ionius smiled encouragingly. “How about I show you a new piece that was gifted to me. Perhaps it will help inspire you.”

Edelgard reached for her glass of orange juice, chuckling into it as she went to take a sip. “ _Another_ art piece? What a surprise,” she remarked.

It was a comfort to hear her father’s passion for discovering new pieces. It’s been a staple of his personality while she was growing up, and it seemed that retirement has enabled him tenfold. It was inevitable that his passion for art became something Edelgard adopted in equal fervor.

“So, what did you manage to find?”

“I have no idea,” he answered excitedly.

She paused mid-sip. “You... you don’t know?” How could that be? As a former art history professor, her father could identify any piece of art at a single glance. Whether they be from the classical era or contemporary, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t identify. To hear him say ‘I don’t know’ was unexpected to say the least.

He waited patiently for her to finish her breakfast before ushering her towards the gallery at the back of the estate. Most of the paintings housed within were gifts from colleagues over the years or portraits of past Hresvelg family members. Ionius’s own portrait hung among them. 

But it was there, at the center of the marble tiled room, that a statue of a knight stood tall and proud. It looked to be about nine feet tall, with four of that dedicated to the pedestal the knight was chiseled atop of. 

Edelgard slowly circled the base of the statue as she continued to study its details.

Immediately she took note of how the knight’s attire was unusual. Adorned head to toe in armor, the helmet only covered the top half of his face, delicate lines of a cuirass sat amongst chainmail, and plush fur lined the knight’s collar. In his hands was a lance but at the neck of the spear was what looked to be... a pair of bells hanging from it? Lastly, the boots weren’t quite metal greaves, rather they looked to be worn leather. An impressive detail to convey with stone.

Armor stylings weren’t her forte, however Edelgard knew enough to surmise that this wasn’t an Adrestian knight. The furred collar alone was enough to showcase that fact. She was sweating just thinking about wearing such a getup in the infamous Adrestian summers. The knight must be from a place further north. Perhaps Faerghus.

Still, the piece was beautiful. From where she stood, Edelgard appraised its immaculate condition. 

“This was given to me by the owners of a nursery,” her father explained, smiling up at the statue. “I was there hoping to acquire new seedlings to plant in the garden and my eye caught sight of this unexpected gem. The owner claims to have had it forever, and knew nothing of its origins. To her it was simply a garden decoration, but there is something else to it, I think. I expressed as much to the owner and asked her if she was selling it. In the end, she insisted on giving it to me.”

Edelgard only hummed in acknowledgement, too focused on the sculpture to give him a proper response. She looked up and down the base of the statue, searching for any mark or signature that would reveal the artist responsible, something that her father might have missed. But sure enough, there was none. She ran a careful finger over the knight’s boot, feeling the chalky residue cling to her fingertip. A knight of Faerghus was a strange choice for a subject. Historically, art hailing from the Kingdom of Faerghus were religious and portrayals of the four saints, with Saint Seiros being the most popular, were common. If there was one thing art history has shown, it’s that religion made for ample subject material.

She internally rolled her eyes at the notion. Whoever the artist of this statue was, she respected that they sculpted something different from religious iconography.

“Is it alright if I climb up for a closer look?” she asked.

“I’d be concerned if you didn’t, El,” Ionius chuckled.

Together they located a ladder and he held it steady as Edelgard climbed up rungs. Now level with the subject, the knight himself was only taller than her by a few inches. Up close, the exposed half of his face looked... feminine?

She ran her fingertip over the smooth cut of the knight’s jaw, feeling the barest hint of his cheeks. Going further still, she traced the delicate curve of his lips neutrally pressed together. Eventually, her gaze went towards the knight’s eyes. Or, rather, lack thereof. While there were slits within the visor, only blackness returned her stare. But what else could she expect? There was likely nothing underneath anyway.

“What do you think?” her father’s voice shook her from her reverie, nearly startling her off the ladder.

She cleared her throat, gathering her composure. “It’s beautiful, Father. A lucky find even without a famous name attached to it.”

“I agree. Though it’s a shame that the artist is to remain a mystery. A technique this refined and detailed deserves praise and a place in the history books. I considered phoning a few of my colleagues to take a look. More eyes and minds put together is certainly better than mine on its own.” 

He sighed wryly. “But I am a bit miffed that I have to wait until the holidays are over. I can feel my impatience beginning to get the better of me.”

“Perhaps some books in Faerghus histories can offer some insight?” Edelgard offered. “I’m definitely not an expert, but the knight’s armor suggests that that may be the place of origin.”

Ionius held a hand to his chin. “Hm... I suppose that is as good as a place to start as any.” Then he waved a dismissive hand. “Oh but enough of that. I didn’t intend to rope you into an investigation, my dear. What do you think? Feel any ideas come to mind for your project?”

Edelgard returned her attention back to the knight. She couldn’t deny that she was certainly curious about the piece. She wanted to know who the knight was (if the artist had intended to model it after someone in the first place). She traced the strong set of the knight’s jaw. Even with the helmet obscuring his eyes, Edelgard felt a gentle gaze boring through the darkened visor. A soft strength in his facial features contrasted by the grandeur of the armor that cladded his form. Yes, there was potential here.

“It’s as good a place to start,” Edelgard said, echoing her father’s own words.

Ionius grinned at his daughter, a prideful gleam in his eye. “Splendid! Well, then I shall leave you to it. I’m sure you remember where to find the art supplies if you need any.”

“Yes, of course.” She rolled her eyes playfully. She had spent most of her childhood in that room after all. “Thank you, Father.”

***

She retreated to her room to gather her sketchbook and pencils before going back to the gallery. 

“Your siblings should be arriving throughout the day. Best to get your sketches in before the chaos commences,” her father jested when she returned. He announced that he was going to take a stroll through the garden if she needed anything and left her to work.

Perhaps she will join him once her initial sketches are finished.

Edelgard pulled up one of the plush chairs and sat herself down while flipping to a clean page in the book and readied her pencil. She took in the knight’s outline, discerning his pose and mapping out the anatomy in her mind's eye. With practiced strokes, she lightly ran her freshly sharpened pencil over the paper until a rough sketch began to form. There were no hard and fast features yet, just a simplification of the statue to get it onto the page.

Once she finished, she rose from the chair and circled the statue again. She sketched a few more dynamic poses freehand, adding some key details of the armor as she went. Occasionally she used the ladder to view bits of them up close.

_What medium should I make this on?_ she wondered. The art room in the estate had ample amounts of clay, paints of all types, and charcoal. The possibilities were virtually limitless.

Edelgard stopped in front of the knight, gazing up at his face. She wondered what the statue would look like with a sunset. A knight, stalwart and strong, staring off at a descending sun as his adversaries loomed in the distance. As cliche as it sounded, it was an idea she could at least work with. It’s a shame that there weren’t any windows in the gallery to invite natural light inside.

Though the artificial light of the gallery managed to do something that Edelgard hadn’t noticed before: it seeped ever so slightly into the narrow slits of the knight’s visor. 

She didn’t know what she was expecting to see beneath the visor, but what she found still managed to blow any possible scenarios out of the water.

There, Edelgard could see just barely make out a pair of eyes and cheekbones. She tossed her book down on the chair and scrambled up the ladder, pulling out her phone to illuminate the hidden face in white light. A pair of eyes.... There were _eyes_. Eyes that were narrowed with focus. 

How did the artist manage to accomplish this level of intricacy with another slab of stone blocking the way? Moreover, why would they go through the trouble of eyes and sharp cheekbones if they were just going to be hidden anyway?

Taking in the facial features in their entirety, the knight was either a youthful man or a striking woman. If Edelgard thought that the sculpture was beautiful before, now she thought it was downright breathtaking, a damn masterpiece of unsung talent. Her father had to see this.

Suddenly, a blur of brown scurried through her peripheral vision, bringing her thoughts to a halt. Panic flooded her senses and overrode her logic until only the screeching thought of _RAT!_ remained. 

A shriek tore out of her throat as she scrambled off the ladder, but with her legs stiff with fear she ended up tumbling off it and onto the unforgiving tile floor.

Then silence.

Edelgard sat still, panting through her thundering heartbeat and her eyes darted every which way for any sight of the rat. But after the seconds passed uneventfully, embarrassment set in.

She sighed, mentally berating herself for her childish reaction. Of course there wasn’t a rat. It had to have been her imagination.

She prepared to heave herself up from the floor, but was stopped by a sound. Not just any sound though. It was stone _cracking_.

Her heart plummeted. Had she somehow hit the statue during her fall? Unlikely. The only thing in any sort of pain was her rear and arms from trying to break her fall. Did the ladder crash against it? No, it was still standing in the same spot she had placed it.

The cracking grew louder, thin lines of black traveled across the knight’s body. Edelgard could only stare helplessly as the statue continued to break. She was too panicked to dwell in the despair that her father’s newest edition was destroyed. 

But even her panic was short lived as... the statue _moved?_

The gauntleted fingers twitched, chipping away more of the stone. Elbows bent with a puff of dust and as the cracks crawled up towards his face, it broke away to reveal a pair of lips that parted and drew a soft gasp of air. 

After what felt like an eternity, shards of stone littered the gallery floor, leaving the armored knight atop the four foot pedestal. The knight drew breath after breath, his chest heaving with effort as if trying to remember how to breathe properly. He leaned heavily against the lance in his right hand, holding the other against his throat.

Edelgard stared wide-eyed. The knight was alive? This _can’t_ be happening? _How_ was this happening?

Finally, the knight righted his posture, glancing about the room almost frantically, until his shrouded gaze fell onto Edelgard. With stiff legs and a short grunt, the knight eased himself down from the pedestal. The armor rattled and jangled as he did so.

“Are you alright, miss? I heard a scream,” a noticeably _not_ masculine voice inquired.

No words came to Edelgard. Her mind was a blank slate, leaving her to continue gaping up at the knight.

The knight knelt down, laying down his— _her?_ —lance down to the side. The bells that hung from the blade of the lance chimed sweetly at the action. Then the knight lifted the helmet’s visor up, revealing bright mint green eyes, gazing softly at her. Exactly how she had envisioned them...

If words were gone before, they were completely dead now. The knight was already beautiful as a statue, but in the flesh? She was gorgeous.

The knight removed her gauntlet and gently pressed the back of her hand against Edelgard’s forehead, igniting her cheeks with a furious blush.

“You don’t feel ill. Whatever threatened you has perhaps caused you to fall into shock,” the knight murmured. Then added in a stronger tone, “Where is the danger, my lady? Just point me in the direction and I shall vanquish it post-haste.”

“Y-you’re real?” Edelgard finally managed to say. She suddenly felt lightheaded.

“Oh. Uh, yes I am, my lady. I can imagine that this may be surprising to you,” the knight said with a sheepish smile. “It’s a bit of a long story, but how are you faring?”

“Like I might faint.”

The knight’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh goddess! What do you need me to do?”

“Don’t.... don’t let my father see you,” was all Edelgard was able to get out before falling backwards. The last thing she felt was the knight’s arms catching her, wrapping around her in an embrace that felt safe and... warm, despite the cool metal of the armor.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Ashtree111)


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